


A Different Kind of Damsel

by athersgeo



Category: Airwolf
Genre: Espionage, Gen, Rescue Mission, cold war action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athersgeo/pseuds/athersgeo
Summary: Caitlin thought Dominic and Hawke being away would make for a quiet couple of weeks. She thought wrong...





	A Different Kind of Damsel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/gifts).



> The main characters belong to people with more lawyers than I'm ever likely to have - just borrowing them (since they're not being used by anyone else these days). No harm, no foul.
> 
> No beta readers were harmed in the making of this story - all typos my own.
> 
> Set sometime after the end of season 3 and completely ignoring season 4 (I'm rebellious like that!) This is a story that, one way or another, I've been trying to tell for nearly thirty years (eek!) - your prompts finally gave me the key to why it wasn't working and here's the end result. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Warnings in place for action, explosions and general activity in-line with the average Airwolf episode.

A Different Sort of Damsel

Caitlin heard the crunch of tyres and the purr of an approaching car as she worked on Dominic's Steerman. With Dominic away and Stringfellow who-knew-where on another leg of his search for his brother, Santini Air had been quiet so she assumed the new arrivals were headed for one of the other hangers on the field and didn't bother to turn. Instead she continued to wrestle with a particularly stiff bolt. It was only when she heard a throat being cleared behind her that she realised the car had been heading here after all.

Looking over her shoulder, she was surprised to see the elegant form of Michael Coldsmith Briggs standing behind her, a grim expression on his face. She was even more surprised to see not the usual white limousine but the departing taillights of a local taxi.

"If you're looking for String or Dominic, they're not here," she called, offering a smile in greeting.

"I know. And that's the problem."

Caitlin felt icy needles of fear spike through her as she turned to fully face the white-suited spy. "What do you mean?"

"Dominic's in Italy, I know," Michael replied. "And we've checked – he is where he's supposed to be."

"But?"

"But Hawke's missing."

Absently Caitlin rubbed her hands with a rag. "Missing? How?"

"The lead he was following. He was supposed to meet up with one of my operatives in Hong Kong, but he didn't show."

While Hawke hadn't told her where his tip off had come from, Caitlin wasn't remotely surprised to learn Michael had been the source. 

"We've been able to track him as far as London. He arrived at London Heathrow, right on time, made his connection and then—"

"Nothing," Caitlin completed. 

"Nothing," Michael agreed. "Faye raised the alarm thirty-six hours ago."

For a few moments, there was silence between them as Caitlin considered what the spy had said. That he was here in Van Nuys rather than back at the Firm's headquarters overseeing a manhunt suggested a couple of things to her. One positive, one rather less so – particularly when paired with his unconventional mode of arrival.

"The Committee aren't running a search, are they?" she said. It was phrased as a question, but it wasn't really.

"They're being their usual short-sighted selves. As far as they're concerned, Hawke's burned and we should be cutting out losses," said Michael, answering anyway.

"Someday I'm gonna ask what it was Hawke did that so pissed them off," Caitlin muttered. 

Michael mustered something that was a close approximation of his normal enigmatic smile and said nothing.

"Guessing, since you're here anyway, you have a clue where he might be," she continued.

"Before the Committee shut the investigation down, Marella was able to pinpoint the likely abductors from a list of passengers and crew from the flight."

Caitlin turned back to the tools and started to pack them away with a speed and lack of care that might have annoyed Dominic, had he seen her – then again, if he'd been here, they'd have probably already headed out, tools be damned. "Who?"

"Looks like the Syrians did the abducting. I'm fairly sure they were acting on behalf of the Russians."

"What makes you say that?"

"The Syrians don't have a helicopter development program along the same lines as Airwolf, the Russians do and Hawke, as you know, worked on Airwolf's development."

"So we don't just need to find Hawke, we need to find him yesterday," said Caitlin, snapping the toolbox shut and turning back, "which is why you're here."

"Correct. Airwolf is the only way to get into and out of Syrian airspace safely."

At the back of her mind, Caitlin had known this was why Michael was here and yet hearing the words spoken aloud still gave her a shiver of apprehension. As much as she'd learned about Airwolf, how she worked and how she flew, the prospect of taking her out without Hawke was a daunting one. Even if Hawke had been quietly been training her for just this situation.

From his pocket, Michael produced a strip of black silk. "Even brought my own blindfold."

At that Caitlin snorted. "If it's yours, why ain't it white like the rest of your suit?" She jerked her head in the direction of the Santini Air jeep parked in the corner of the hanger. "Well, let's go."

~*~

Once she'd left the smooth surface of the highway to cut across country, Caitlin floored the jeep's accelerator pedal. The jeep bounced across the rutted desert track in such a way that she felt sure the blindfolded spy beside her would complain.

Michael, for his part, remained silent. The only indication that he was at all troubled by the journey was a certain grimace, which suggested that the bouncing was jostling his bum knee.

Caitlin gave a mental shrug. It couldn't be helped.

Soon the Valley of the Gods was looming on the horizon. Another five minutes of rough track travel and they were at the lair. For safety's sake, Caitlin squeezed the jeep into the entry and parked just inside the cave. Who knew how long it would be until they returned?

"You can take the blindfold off now," she called, even as she climbed out of the jeep and headed briskly to the lockers where the flight suits were stashed. "Grab a flight suit."

Without waiting to see if Michael was following her commands, Caitlin grabbed her own flight suit and started to change into it. As she did so, she thought about everything this was going to entail. She'd need to fly with maximum radar dampening – or fly low enough to dodge below scans but high enough not to knock any roofs off – to get out of US airspace, then cross the Atlantic, hug the north African coast and finally reach Syria. It was going to be one long flight and while some parts could be flown on autopilot, some parts most definitely couldn't. Then there was what they were going to do when they got there – she doubted, somehow, that just showing up in Airwolf would persuade Hawke's captors to release him. That meant a fight; possibly aerial combat and probably some time spent on the ground sneaking around to actually find Hawke. 

When she thought about it in those terms, the whole thing seemed mad. Impossible.

"Don't over-think it."

Michael's words snapped Caitlin back to the here and now. She realised they were both now ready, dressed in identical silver-grey flight suits.

"Easy for you to say," she muttered in response.

"You know, if roles were reversed—hell, when roles have been reversed, you know what Hawke would be doing."

"Sure do." Caitlin inclined her head towards the black helicopter sitting in the centre of the cave. "So we'd better get to doin' it, too."

That earned her a dry chuckle and they both started towards Airwolf. As Michael climbed in, Caitlin did a walk around, checking for any signs of damage or problems that would cause an issue on take-off. Knowing that Dominic had gone over Airwolf with his usual fine-toothed comb prior to leaving for Italy and knowing Hawke had been out to the Valley of the Gods at least twice since Dominic's departure, Caitlin wasn't expecting anything, but it always paid to check. And, she admitted to herself, it was a good way of trying to calm her nerves. 

"Never kissed a boy, till the first time," she muttered to herself, satisfied that Airwolf was ready to go. "Did just fine then. I'll do just fine now."

Coming back around Airwolf's nose, she finally climbed in, took her place in the lead pilot's seat and tried to ignore just how foreign and wrong it felt. Settling the helmet on her head, she flipped the ignition switches in sequence. With a throaty growl, the first turbine cut in. The growl turned to a whine as the second turbine came online and the familiar sounds felt comforting. As rotor speed increased, Caitlin felt the stick come alive in her hand. Once the rotors were up to full speed, she gently eased the stick back, allowing Airwolf to rise.

At a bare handful of feet above the ground, Caitlin retracted the landing gear. Keeping a light hand on the stick, she set the big helicopter to ascend the chimney. While there was clearance all the way around, it was a tight fit and she was conscious that one wrong flinch would bring the flight to an abrupt and terminal halt, but the ascent went smoothly and as they emerged in the late afternoon sunshine, Michael was moved to say,

"Nicely done."

"Thanks." Caitlin feathered the rudder pedals until Airwolf's nose was pointing due east and moved off. "What's my best heading?"

After a moment, Michael named the bearing she needed and added, "Radar dampening is on, so any time you want turbos, you can have them."

Despite herself, Caitlin found herself smiling, even as she adjusted her course. "Gimme turbos and let's get this show on the road."

"Turbos ready."

Caitlin engaged the turbos and felt herself slapped back into her seat by the sudden acceleration. Below, the ground sped by in a blur of desert shrubs and rocky outcrops.

"So, seems Marella owes me twenty bucks," said Michael presently.

"Oh? Why?"

"I bet her Hawke had been teaching you Airwolf's ropes."

"And she bet against me?" Caitlin wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed by that.

"She...may have heard about your first flight in Airwolf," Michael admitted.

That particular disaster had been nearly two years earlier now, but despite the time lapsed, it still painted a dull, embarrassed heat across Caitlin's cheeks. "Oh."

"I told her that Hawke wasn't fool enough to waste your talent. Glad to see I was right."

Caitlin was momentarily stunned by that. "Whaddya mean 'my talents'?"

Oddly, that got a lengthy and somewhat sheepish silence. "When you first started working at Santini Air I...may have run a background check on you."

"Why?"

Michael harrumphed and the next words were defensive: "In case you were some kind of plant. It has been known."

That made Caitlin snort with laughter. "You thought I was some Russian agent?"

"It has been known," Michael repeated. "Honey traps—"

"Oh, I know what a honey trap is. But you wanna set a honey trap for Hawke, you don't offer up a pretty girl, you offer up information on his brother."

There was another long moment of silence. Awkward and heavy.

"We vetted the information," said Michael as if answering a question. "It's genuine."

Caitlin chewed her lip. "Maybe that's the point. Offer up somethin' genuine to bait the trap."

"You think we got played?"

"Maybe." Her shoulders hitched in a slight shrug. "But you already figured that."

"I did. The question is, by who."

"Well, we got eight hours flyin' time to figure it out."

~*~

Eight hours later, Caitlin felt mentally wrung out. The flight had been uneventful to this point but that hadn't allowed her to do anything other than concentrate in case that state had changed. They were now flying a coast-hugging path along Northern Africa but flying at high altitude to avoid being visually identified in one of the busiest seaways in the world.

For the last hour, Michael had been silent. Comforting in the sense that it meant nothing had shown on the scopes; unnerving for the fact that it left Caitlin alone with her thoughts. Though she hadn't voiced the theory to Michael yet, from everything he'd told her she was fairly sure the cause of this current situation lay not in Russia but a high up within Michael's own agency. Another mole, or just simply someone Hawke had pissed off, she wasn't sure, but it seemed a little too much like coincidence that the order to give Hawke the lead and the order to treat Hawke as burned came from the exact same person.

Caitlin shivered. If she was right, that was something that would need to be dealt with when they got back. If they got back.

"Coming up on the Israeli-Egyptian border," said Michael suddenly. "Let's hope the Israeli Air Force aren't up to anything this early in the day."

"Let's hope. ETA?"

"Half an hour."

That was music to Caitlin's ears. For just a moment her mind wandered to the prospect of setting down and, perhaps, being able to grab a couple of hours' sleep before making their next move. In that moment, a radio transmission cut across her thoughts: "Unidentified aircraft: this IDF Command. You are in Israeli airspace. Please identify yourself or risk being shot down."

Caitlin felt a flash of pure panic. "What do we do? How did they see us? I thought we were radar silent."

"We are," said Michael tersely. "But if they've got one of their early warning aircraft in the air, they might spot us through heat signature."

"Unidentified aircraft, please respond." The voice was sounding more stern by the second.

"What do I say?" Caitlin asked. "Gotta respond with something."

"I—"

"Unidentified aircraft, please respond."

"Do we have a base in Turkey?" she asked.

"Yes, Incirlik," Michael replied. "What—"

Caitlin keyed the radio, cutting him off. "This is US Air Force long range reconnaissance plane AW229. We're returning to base at Incirlik and running low on fuel. We will be out of your airspace in under thirty seconds."

There was a long pause. "Understood, AW229. Next time ask permission."

Caitlin snorted and keyed the radio again. "Will do, IDF Command. Thanks and out."

"Adjust your heading north," said Michael faintly. "Just for appearance's sake."

Caitlin did as he suggested. A few minutes of flying north took them out over the Mediterranean and out of Israeli airspace. 

"Out of their range in three, two, one." Michael waited a beat more. "Let's swing around in over Tartus and find a place to land."

"Gladly."

~*~

Caitlin didn't bother to try and hide the sigh of relief she uttered as she finally touched down in a clearing in the hills above the Tartus facility.

"I pulled scans as we flew over the port," said Michael, "and I'm monitoring local transmissions. I'll see what I can dig up. We can't do anything until nightfall so we have the time,"

"I'll get us undercover," said Caitlin.

"And then you'll get some sleep." 

The words were spoken with a degree of force and they made Caitlin giggle despite herself. "Oh don't you worry about that. I'm not gonna be good for anybody if I don't. Right?"

"Right."

So saying, Caitlin slid out of the pilot's seat and out into the humid morning air. Her knees buckled a bit after nearly nine hours flying – at least, that was what she told herself the cause was. Instead, she focussed on placing the camouflage netting over Airwolf so that a casual fly-by wouldn't reveal their position. Of course, that was a task that was easier said than done. Dom was near enough six foot and Hawke wasn't much shorter which gave them both a much better reach than anything she could manage and long before she'd finished, Caitlin was coming up with ways in which, next time, this part of the job would be much easier for her to do.

"Of course, whole point of this is so's there won't be a next time," she muttered to herself dragging the final piece of netting into place.

When she climbed back into the cockpit she found a bottle of water and a meal replacement bar waiting on the vacant left seat. Michael had clearly been raiding Hawke's stash.

"Thanks," she called.

"If you want more, there's some back here," Michael answered, his voice sounding distracted.

Caitlin grabbed the water bottle and cracked it open. "You found something?"

"Maybe."

Sipping her water, Caitlin climbed through into the rear of the cabin, thoughts of sleep pushed from her mind. "Whacha got?"

For answer, Michael jabbed at the computer screen, which was currently displaying a particular warehouse in infrared. "You can see there's several heat signatures here."

"I see that."

"But," Michael continued, jabbing at one section in particular, "these heat signatures aren't people. They're engines."

"Engines?" The significance of that escaped Caitlin for a moment. "Wait – you said the Russians had a helicopter program. You're saying it's here?"

"That's what it looks like. And I know now why the Russians want Hawke."

"Why?"

"Because the Russians figure Hawke's solved Airwolf's heat problem."

"But he hasn't – we haven't."

"Not completely. But Airwolf's engines don't run that hot any more. Hawke – and Dominic – have found a way to tweak her systems. She still runs hot, but not as hot."

That sounded like something Dominic would have done.

"We'll need to watch out for that chopper – if we get Hawke, that's what they're going to come after us with."

Caitlin nodded and sipped her water to try and hide the jolt of fear that prediction brought. "You want that warehouse to go up as well?"

Oddly, Michael shook his head. "It's not the main lab and while blowing it up would be satisfying all it will do is make our presence known."

"We have a runnin' battle with Airwolf's Russian cousin and we're gonna be known all the same," Caitlin pointed out.

"That's on the Russians. Let them have to explain things to their Syrian partners."

That made sense. "You are gonna go after their main lab, though, right?"

"At some point," Michael agreed. "And some point soon, from what I can see here. But that will be a mission for another day."

Caitlin nodded. "Anything on where they're holding Hawke?"

"Nothing so far. But I'll keep digging. I have heard some chatter from the base but nothing helpful yet. You should get some rest."

Caitlin nodded again and headed back into the cockpit. "What about you?"

"Me?" Michael sounded surprised.

"You've been up near enough as long as I have. Probably longer. When do you rest?"

"When we touch down at the Firm's base in Turkey with Hawke safely onboard," came the answer. 

Caitlin settled back into the right seat. "You think we can do this?"

"We don't have a choice."

As endorsements went it was hardly a ringing one, but Caitlin couldn't disagree. There wasn't a choice.

~*~

The sun shining in through the windshield at an acute angle was what finally pulled Caitlin from the doze she'd fallen into. While real sleep had been elusive, she had at least managed some rest and, as the sunset now streaked the sky oranges and reds, she stretched. It would soon be time to act and that meant she had to be ready to go.

Then she smelled something. "Coffee?"

That earned a chuckle from Michael. "I can't promise it's good, but at least it's hot."

"How?"

"Let's just say, it pays to have a friend in every port."

At that, Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Hand it over." Michael chuckled again and did as bidden. A cheap plastic cup filled with something hot and steaming appeared over her shoulder. She gratefully accepted it and sniffed it appreciatively. "Heck, this could taste like three day old beer dregs and engine oil and I'd take it."

A moment or two later and Michael had moved into the vacant left seat. "As soon as it's gone dark, we move."

"You've found Hawke?"

"The most likely location for him, yes. It's not confirmed." Michael looked unimpressed by that. "My friend was able to do a little light scouting of the base. Hawke wasn't in any of the areas he could access, which narrows Hawke's location down to one place. The warehouse, with the prototype."

"I'm not gonna ask how you have a friend who can just scout a Russian base on Syrian soil like that," Caitlin muttered "But that warehouse makes sense."

"Unfortunately," Michael continued, "that means one of us has to actually get onto the base and confirm it and get Hawke out. Preferably without getting noticed." He hesitated. "And the best way to do that is to have Airwolf buzz the compound and get everyone looking at her."

Caitlin slowly sipped her coffee, allowing that plan to percolate through her mind. "I'm no Stringfellow Hawke. I'm not sure—"

"No, you're not Hawke. But I know he has to have taught you a few tricks, you've worked with Dominic Santini as part of his air crew for two years as well, and I know for a fact you knew plenty of tricks before you started."

Caitlin froze. "What do you—that security check thing you did on me," she realised, aware her cheeks were rapidly turning a hot, embarrassed red.

"It was very thorough," said Michael. "So yes, I know about your high school stunt in the Steerman. And the races at the police academy – how many was it you won? Nine? Ten?"

"Fifteen," Caitlin muttered.

"So no, you're not Hawke, but what you are is damn good all the same." Michael's expression clearly dared her to try and argue with that assessment.

Caitlin ducked her head and studied her coffee for a few moments. "So, what's the plan?"

"Simple. Once it gets fully dark I hike down to the facility. You fly in, buzz the place, hit a few targets of opportunity and get out, I find Hawke, you pick us up and we can all go home."

"Simple," Caitlin echoed. It certainly sounded straight forward. She just hoped the execution would live up to the billing.

~*~

As the last of the evening light faded, Michael set off for his part of the plan while Caitlin started the tedious process of removing the camouflage nets and preparing for take off. The cammo nets were as much a pain to remove as they had been to put up in the first place. Worse, perhaps, since their removal came in near enough pitch darkness. Caitlin knew the lack of moonlight was a blessing, but as she wrestled the netting off Airwolf she cursed it all the same. She could barely see her own hand in front of her face.

Finally the last net was removed and stowed and she climbed back into the cockpit. Again she flipped the switches that fired the turbines and felt Airwolf come alive around her. She took in one long breath, held it and then released it slowly. She could do this.

She allowed Airwolf to lift slowly off the ground until she was at a level that just cleared the surrounding trees. Too low for radar yet, though for this run she'd be flying with all the electronic countermeasures turned off. The whole point was to be seen – just not yet. Not until she was ready.

Caitlin checked the chronometer and nodded. Time. She allowed Airwolf to move off at a sedate, normal sort of speed but keeping as close to the treetops as she dared. Soon the edges of Tartus appeared beneath her, the buildings low and flat roofed. She climbed another few feet to be on the safe side. Then the base itself came into view. Unlike the surrounding city, the base was lit up like 4th July which gave her a clear view of her initial target.

Without a flight engineer she didn't have access to all of the predatory chopper's weaponry, but the chain guns were hot and ready to go and there was an ammo dump to the rear of the warehouse that was ripe to have a few rounds pumped into it. It would make a nice, big, predictable noise, draw all the attention to her and it would keep the base staff away from that end of the complex.

"Just like target practice," she muttered and took aim. Her first rounds were slightly short, but the dump went up in a fireball of noise and heat and suddenly the base came alive.

Search lights suddenly painted the sky, seeking out the source. Caitlin pushed her speed and let the howl of the wind across Airwolf's rotors sow more confusion as she swooped in across the base. Hauling back on the stick, pulling her into a tight loop to come back as if to make another run, she took in the signs of two choppers being hastily prepared for take off. Looked like she'd have company sooner than they'd anticipated. She also caught the big double doors of the warehouse being cranked open.

She'd attracted enough attention that they were getting the prototype out?

Caitlin swallowed and picked out another target: a dockside crane, safely away from anywhere friendlies were likely to be. This time, her target didn't explode, but with the crane struts well chewed up by the chain guns it wobbled and slowly toppled creating more confusion even as she flew back across the base, this time heading north, away from the warehouse.

Banking hard to starboard she got another good look at what was going on on the quayside. The prototype was now out on the concrete. She could see crew racing towards it. They were tossing it into the fight. That changed things. The other two choppers looked like scavenged Hueys or something of the sort. Barely armoured and barely armed. They had managed to lift off and were now coming for her.

Time to make an exit before the skies got too crowded. Aiming straight between the two choppers, Caitlin pressed the button for a quick burst of turbo and rocketed between them. The rotor wash made them rock and roll but neither could react to stop her. Within the space of two heartbeats, she was out to sea and dropping below the radar ceiling once more.

"Now you see me, now you don't."

Cutting the turbos, she banked gently to port and flew low and sedate back towards Tartus. Pursuit would head out on her last known bearing and would take them some time to figure out she wasn't there. Caitlin smiled. That was stage one complete. 

Over the encrypted radio frequency of Airwolf's personal radio she heard two clicks, a pause and another two clicks. She let out a sigh of relief. Stage two was also done. She sent back her own pair of clicks and put more speed into her return to the base.

This was the tricky part: trying to approach a base now on high alert in a machine that had deliberately set up to negate all her stealth capabilities. Caitlin just hoped her aerial companions were far enough away to let them complete stage three safely.

Nearing the base, she flipped the switch that turned off all external lights and hoped that Airwolf's black paint work would help disguise her approach. She and Michael had discussed trying Hawke's trick of landing an unpowered chopper via autorotation but it had been a brief debate: the stats on that particular stunt argued strongly in favour of not trying it. So a powered approach it was.

The ammo dump was glowing brightly as she approached, back more or less on her original vector now. From the way the flames kept jumping there was still ammunition in there primed and ready to explode. So much the better for keeping people away from where she planned to land but there would still only be a precious few moments for this.

With more haste than she'd have liked, Caitlin came in to land behind the warehouse. Michael wasn't immediately apparent, but, as Airwolf neared the ground, she spotted the spy in the lee of the warehouse. Did he have Hawke? She squinted and finally spotted the pilot, half hidden in the shadows. They were moving now. Hawke came into the ammo dump's light and Caitlin could see obvious signs of injury, not the least of which was some sort of arm or shoulder injury from the way he was holding himself. Clearly the past few days hadn't been good, but the fact he was managing to move under his own power spoke volumes.

Caitlin finally touched down as Michael turned and started firing his sidearm at unseen assailants. All she could do was watch and hope. Two more steps and Hawke was at Airwolf, awkwardly forcing open the cockpit door with his off hand. Michael still lagged behind, firing shots and moving backwards towards the chopper.

The assailants finally became visible to Caitlin. Three of the base guards, armed with rifles, bearing down on Michael and firing indiscriminately. She saw at least one spark as a bullet pinged off Airwolf's armoured nose. Opening up with the chain guns would deal with them, but at the risk of hitting Michael. She needed him to be a few steps closer still.

"C'mon," she muttered, finger on the trigger, eyeing the angles. One step more. The guards were getting closer. "C'mon."

Finally Michael reached that magic spot that put him behind where the chain guns field of fire overlapped. Almost before she'd consciously recognised it, Caitlin fired off a burst. The guards all dived for cover and as soon as she let up, Michael all but sprinted the remaining distance and hauled himself into Airwolf's rear compartment. 

"Go!" he hollered, but it was unnecessary. Caitlin was already lifting off.

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh's not good," said Caitlin.

"Caitlin?!" Hawke sounded comically startled.

Michael ignored the interjection. "You've got three birds coming in dead ahead. One has no radar profile but a massive heat signature."

"The prototype." It was only what Caitlin had expected, but it wasn't what she'd wanted to hear. 

"You can safely outrun the other two," Michael continued. "But that..." He trailed off. 

"Can't out-run it, gotta out fly it," said Hawke.

"I didn't come all this way to not get home," Caitlin muttered as they reached roof level. She caught a glimpse of the prototype coming in strong and fast and she veered off to starboard, intending to hit the turbos.

"Missile lock," Michael reported.

"Sunburst and gimme missiles." Without waiting for confirmation of either order, Caitlin did hit the turbos. From the explosion in her wake, the sunburst had done its job.

"Missiles ready."

Caitlin pulled back in a tight turn to port, cut turbos and fired off a bullpup missile. She knew, even as it fired it would miss its mark, unless the prototype pilots were spectacularly bad and sure enough, even as she executed another tight turn back to her previous heading, she saw the prototype adjust its course to dodge.

That was just fine. If they were dodging, they weren't going to be following. Caitlin hit the turbos again and sped out across the Mediterranean on a roughly northerly course.

"They're coming," Michael warned.

"I know." Caitlin smiled faintly. "You were the one who brought up the Steerman." And so saying, she cut the turbos again and rapidly plunged towards the surface of the water.

Distantly she heard Michael curse. And then curse again as she reversed course and rose back to her original altitude. The prototype was now ahead, turning to port to come back around and run head to head.

"Firin' two." This time, with a moment to aim, Caitlin shot off the two missiles with precision. The prototype dodged the first, right into the path of the second.

"I'll be damned," said Michael.

Hawke actually chuckled.

Caitlin sighed with relief and hit the turbos to finally get them away.

~*~

The darkness was thick and heavy as they came in to land at a little airbase in Turkey. It wasn't an official American facility, but it had refuelling facilities, a medic and a mess hall - all things that were, as far as Caitlin was concerned, very necessary.

To her surprise, however, the person leading the ground crew out to meet them as they landed was Marella, her white jumpsuit making her all-but glow.

"I thought we were off books," she said, powering down Airwolf's engines.

"We are, technically."

"Technically." Hawke snorted, then winced.

"It's a long story," said Michael with a shrug. 

Caitlin shook her head and gratefully climbed out of the cockpit. Again she found her knees buckling as she did so. Relief at a successful mission? 

"Do you have him?" Marella called.

"We do." Caitlin managed to persuade her knees to lock properly and jerked a thumb back at the cockpit. "Banged up, but okay, I think."

"We have a medic standing by," said Marella, but the smile on her face was definitely tinged with worry.

"Do you have an update?" Michael asked, coming to stand beside Caitlin.

"It's not good news," said Marella.

More than that she refused to say until after Hawke had seen the medic (who pronounced torn shoulder ligaments and badly bruised ribs and proceeded to strap up both injuries) and until they were safely seated in the mess with coffee and plates of real food.

Hawke, with his shoulder now well strapped, said, "So what happened?"

"Hard to say for certain," said Michael. "The Committee have already shut down the investigation."

Hawke snorted.

"We're looking anyway," said Marella. "Someone sold you, and us, out."

Caitlin listened with half an ear as Marella outlined all of the suspicions Michael had laid out during the flight across the Atlantic. Instead she focussed on the food - some sort of lamb stew with rice - as she finally recognised that she was utterly famished. She also began to hope the plan wasn't to take off the moment Airwolf was fully refuelled as exhaustion began to tug at her.

"Fay Chen's been able to dig up more," Marella finished, pulling Caitlin's attention back to the briefing. This was new. "She's found traces of messages being passed from Langley to Moscow. It was definitely an inside job but she hasn't been able to pinpoint who."

"Yet," said Hawke.

"Yet," Michael agreed. "We will find the source."

"What about St John?"

"Faye's reconfirmed that the sighting was genuine. None of her operatives can get close enough to be categorically sure but they're keeping tabs. As soon as you're passed fit we'll give you everything."

Caitlin expected Hawke to gripe at Marella's restriction, but he didn't. Instead he nodded. "We do it my way?"

"And we keep it between us, Faye and Dominic," said Michael nodding. "I know we can trust that circle."

"What about the Russians?" Caitlin asked.

"It's another thing we'll be dealing with," said Michael. "Marella, when you get back, pull all we've got on the Russian helicopter program. Something tells me that we might be able to pinpoint our mole from that information."

"You think they've leaked more than just Hawke's travel plans," Caitlin realised.

"I think it's worth looking into."

"Understood," said Marella, pushing to her feed. "When will you be back?"

Michael paused for a moment, considering. "Friday, I think."

Marella nodded. "I'll hold the committee off until then. Don't be late."

And with that, she departed.

"What about us?" asked Caitlin not really able to stifle a sudden yawn.

"We'll fly out in the morning," said Michael. "Once we've had a chance to sleep."

~*~

The return journey to California was much less of a strain. With the urgency no longer present they were able to break up the journey. It did mean instead of less than one day, the return took three days, but Caitlin was happy to trade a shorter journey for not flying more or less non-stop.

It also helped that she wasn't the only pilot aboard. While Hawke's shoulder injury meant he wasn't fit to fly combat, he was more than capable of guiding Airwolf back across the Atlantic. Caitlin admitted to herself that if she never had to fly solo across that expanse of water again she'd be perfectly happy with that.

As they now neared Van Nuys, Michael said, "Marella's promised a car waiting for me at Santini Air."

Caitlin watched as Hawke's body language relaxed just fractionally. She'd bet he'd been trying to come up with a good way to kick Michael out before taking Airwolf back to the lair. 

"I'll review what she's found and then we'll start planning our next move." He sighed. "They will try again, of course but we've still got some leeway."

"You sure about that?"

"Well we did just blow their prototype outta the sky," said Caitlin. "Reckon it'll take them at least another week just fishin' the bits out of the sea."

Hawke snorted, amused. "We?"

Caitlin shrugged and called the Van Nuys tower, requesting permission to land. Even as she did so, she noted the presence of both a white limousine and the dark-haired form of Marella standing beside it. "Looks like your ride's here."

"So, tomorrow?" Michael suggested.

"Sounds good." Hawke's tone suggested he would probably rather swallow ground glass.

It earned a chuckle from Michael while Caitlin rolled her eyes as she brought Airwolf into a gentle landing on the concrete, far enough away from Marella not to catch her with the rotor wash.

"Until tomorrow."

Michael climbed out of Airwolf and started to make his way across the apron. 

Caitlin watched his progress for a moment, then turned to Hawke. "Back to the lair, then?"

"Yup."

And that was Hawke to a t. Succinct and giving nothing away. Caitlin shrugged and eased Airwolf back into the air for the short flight up to the lair.

Ten minutes later, hovering above the great stone chimney that lead down into the lair, Hawke said, "Want me to set her down?"

Caitlin smiled faintly. "I got her out, I can get her back." So saying, she started the descent, as careful and as inch-by-inch as the ascent had been almost a week before now. The difference was in how confident she felt. A week ago she'd been terrified. Now? After evasion and combat and a high-speed chase that had made her feel alive for perhaps the first time in years, all she felt was a degree of confidence and ease. It wasn't simple, but she wasn't worried.

Airwolf settled down gently on the cave floor and Caitlin began the process of shutting down the turbines.

Before the rotors had begun to slow, Hawke climbed out of the cockpit and into the flight engineer's seat to do the shutdown procedures back there.

"Have to come out here tomorrow to check her over," he commented. "Figure she'll need ammo at least."

"At least," Caitlin agreed as the last growls from the turbines died away leaving the lair in an eerie silence. "You want help?"

Hawke glanced at her. "You fly her, you fix her." But he was smiling. "You done good, Cait. Real good."

"I had a good teacher."

"I heard what you pulled with the Israelis," said Hawke. "That was all you."

Caitlin grinned at that With the hindsight of nearly a week, she was amazed her ruse had worked so well. "It's the accent," she joked. "Makes me sound like a damsel all you boys just gotta go rescue."

Hawke chuckled. "You are no kind of damsel." He jerked his head towards the Santini Air jeep. "Goin' home?"

"That sounds like the best idea I've heard in a week."


End file.
